


Safeguard

by arthur_pendragon



Series: the one where Merlin's a child [3]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, C h e e s e, Cheese, Child Merlin, Coronation, Gen, Kidfic, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-13
Updated: 2019-04-13
Packaged: 2020-01-12 15:36:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18449498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arthur_pendragon/pseuds/arthur_pendragon
Summary: Arthur is crowned king, and his biggest supporter is — where else? — at the front of the crowd.





	Safeguard

**Author's Note:**

> **warning:** much CHEESINESS ahead, proceed at your own risk
> 
> also i will write merthur again soon i just have to get this au out of my system

Arthur stood outside the entrance to the great hall, staring at the whorls in the varnished wood. He had no business being nervous over the coronation; after all, he’d been born to sit on the throne of Camelot. His father had moved the earth and the skies to ensure it. Why, then, did his heart still thunder away in his chest? He had been king in all but name for the past year, and today was just a performance to shut his courtiers up about the formalities and apparent need to show Camelot’s allies and enemies alike that Uther’s passing hadn’t left a void in Camelot’s rulership.

He took a deep breath, exhaling with a sigh, and nodded at the doormen. They leapt into action and grasped the handles, hauling the magnificent doors open.

A thousand people stood inside, but only hushed silence greeted him, even as he walked down the length of the hall between the parted crowd towards the throne where Geoffrey of Monmouth waited, the king’s crown in his hands.

King.

Arthur had no doubt that he presented a fine sight to the onlookers, marching with poise, armour dazzling, on to his destiny — and yet, in a dark corner of his heart, he wondered if… if perhaps he wasn’t fit to rule. If he was a fraud, a misshapen brick doomed to shatter in the furnace.

Oh, God. He wasn’t ready for this. He wasn’t. A huge knot swelled in his throat and his footsteps faltered imperceptibly —

A hand shot out from the crowd to grasp his, small but sure, but before Arthur could squeeze it back, the pressure withdrew from his fingers.

Heartened despite himself, Arthur squared his shoulders and stared straight ahead, coming face-to-face with the man who would crown him. The corners of his mouth turned up.

“Kneel, my lord,” said Geoffrey softly, for his ears only.

Arthur did so, closing his eyes, and began to utter the oaths under Geoffrey’s guidance.

* * *

 

“Long live the king!”

Arthur Pendragon, King of Camelot, rose and turned to face his people, their thunderous cheers ringing in his ears, keeping him upright.

“Long live the king!”

There was no turning back now. No doubting himself, no hesitating.

“ _Long live the king!_ ” And the chants dissolved into roaring applause, refusing to die down, even as Arthur ducked his head to hide his grin. Gods above, it was ambrosia for his soul.

His father would’ve been so, so proud to see this.

He didn’t have to search long: in the very first row of his well-wishers he caught the eye of a young boy leaping up and down, shouting and hollering, the widest smile of any in the hall on his face. The boy, almost nine, didn’t seem to have a care for Gaius’s admonishments — not that any were forthcoming from the man himself, who looked on with pride.

Arthur extended a hand to Merlin, who ceased his jumping and stumbled forward. He was visibly shaking. Arthur harked back to a time two years ago when it had been in abject terror, not this — this fierce, wild joy. He would never let Merlin be that frightened again. He had had the law roughly drafted already (not that Merlin would be interested enough to peruse the papers, but Arthur would have fun trying to make him) and he desperately awaited the day this charming little boy could run around the castle free to be himself, the day Camelot would start to heal from his father’s grief.

Merlin reached Arthur, but instead of grabbing Arthur’s outstretched hand, he knelt, bowing his head.

Arthur _laughed_ (God, this silly boy) and defenestrated all considerations of propriety, gathering Merlin into his arms and rising to his feet.

“You look so stupid,” Merlin yelled in his ear, hugging him tightly, but Arthur could feel the tears dripping onto his neck.

“Nothing out of the ordinary, then,” Arthur shouted. Merlin sobbed into his collar and Arthur tried very hard not to sob right back.

* * *

 

(It took less than half a page of Arthur’s proposed law for Merlin to nod off that evening. Arthur rolled his eyes and carried his charge back to Gaius’s, treasuring the boundless faith the boy had in him, which kept his back ramrod straight on days like this when it took everything he had to stay on his feet.

“Wanna ’ntroduce you to the dragon,” Merlin muttered sleepily to Arthur. “Been waiting ages. He says you’re a prat, too. You’ve to set him free, okay?”

Arthur came to a halt.

“ _What_ ,” he said flatly, the boy’s sleep be damned.

Merlin — Melon — just yawned and dozed off again.)


End file.
